Baggage
by anon004
Summary: My take on how Lucas should leave and Cuddy and House should get together. Spoilers for season six. Rating change to M.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: To those who read my other stories, this fic is not part of the AU of Fifty and A Half and Domestication (I'm still working on those, I promise). What I tried to do, while we are on the Winter Olympics hiatus, is weave important and not so important pieces of season six (with a few details from season five) into a more or less coherent whole that would explain the end of DUD-dy and maybe the beginning of a real Huddy (i.e., not a delusion like the end of season five). This first, long chapter is the former. And I'll get to the latter. Or not.

I hope House isn't too OOC here, voluntarily telling so much about himself and what he feels. I just know that he seems to have an easier time revealing himself to people who are relative strangers (e.g., the father in Son of Coma Guy, or the rape victim in One Day, One Room) than he does to his friends.

Also, to those of you who like the AU of Fifty and A Half and Domestication, this fic is probably a little bit more harsh than they are. What can I say? Season six has put me in a mood.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.**

_Wow, that was boring_ Cuddy thought to herself as she returned to her office from her Tuesday morning meeting with the nursing staff. As usual, her desk was covered with paperwork. _And nothing here to interest me, either._

She put off attacking the pile to take a much-needed break in the bathroom attached to her office. After she was done, she returned to her desk, picked up her pen and started to work. When she lifted the first folder off the stack, she saw something that finally caught her attention. It was a small device with ear buds attached, almost like an I-pod. Maybe someone had been in there when she was at the meeting and accidentally left it?

She knew she should lock her office when she wasn't in it, but since she'd fired her last assistant, she had to leave the door open so people could drop things off when she was out. Her interest quickly changed to frustration as Cuddy realized she'd have to figure out who this thing belonged to.

She picked it up, and looked for something to identify it, which, of course, wasn't there. It was then that she heard sounds coming from the earbuds. She thought if she listened that might give her some clue. She heard people speaking. Of course, it couldn't be a music app. Just her luck, it was owned by some guy who thought Howard Stern was hilarious and she'd have to listen to his adolescent misogyny. She put the earbuds in, anyway.

"Thanks for coming again, today, Miranda. You don't know how this helps me out."

"No problem, Doc. I know chronic pain patients sometimes have periods where they need massages more frequently. Don't ever hesitate to call."

"That feels really good."

"Well, we can't have your neck and shoulders tense, can we?"

"Despite what I tell people, it's really my leg that needs the massage."

"Not just that, Doc. Walking with the cane throws you off-balance. We need work on your upper-body, too."

There was a pause in the conversation. At this point, Cuddy knew she wasn't hearing some satellite radio download. She had a listening device in her ears, and she was hearing what was going on in House's office. She also figured out that the device must belong to Lucas, and that he had bugged House's office. What the hell? Why would he do that? Before she had the chance to process that, the voices started again.

"This bruise looks like it's fading nicely. I'll still try to be careful, okay?"

"Okay."

"It was pretty bad when I first saw it. How did you get it again?"

"I told you, I fell."

"Not what I heard, Doc."

"Oh yeah, I forgot your girlfriend works in security. What exactly did she tell you, anyway?"

"That you were tripped in the cafeteria."

"Don't believe everything you hear, Miranda."

"Nice try, Doc. She saw the tape."

"If she's so into you, why is she watching tapes of a tall, sexy _man_?"

"It's part of her job. Besides, she just couldn't believe what happened. She also couldn't believe that no one did anything about it."

"Yeah, well, her boss isn't likely to jeopardize his job by reporting on his boss's boyfriend. Certainly not for the likes of me."

"Don't say that, Doc. You deserve better than that. Besides, isn't tripping someone considered assault? Couldn't you file criminal charges?"

"The cops and I aren't exactly on friendly terms."

"I bet you could make a mint on a civil suit, though. Especially since the creep was tripping a handicapped person. What a sleazebag."

There was another pause. Cuddy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Had Lucas actually tripped House? In the PPTH cafeteria, no less? Cuddy had seen a cut on House's forehead a couple of weeks ago. Since they were no longer on anything but professional terms, she had decided not to ask him about it. The conversation continued.

"Your boss must be a real bitch. Why would any self-respecting woman date a bully like that? Of course, he is a lot younger than she is, right? Must be one of those pathetic, desperate cougar things."

"Not for me to judge."

"Well, you're a better person than I am. I'm so glad I play for the other team. I don't have to go around looking like some old lady so hard up for sex that she'll sleep with some loser to just to get something. And then let the creep abuse her colleagues just to hang on to him. And then allow her boy-toy to bring it to her workplace. Letting your personal life spill over into your work like that is completely unprofessional, especially for a person at her level. They should have fired her on the spot."

"She just got them 12% on an insurance contract when the insurance company started at 4%. Don't think she's going to get fired anytime soon."

"I wonder if she slept with someone in the insurance company to get that deal."

"I doubt it."

"How can you be so sure? If she'll spread her legs for a creep like her boyfriend, she obviously has no standards. Why wouldn't she let an insurance executive bang her to get what she wants? According to Sondra, that's the rumor flying around the hospital now."

"I know, I've heard that, too. But I've known her for a long time, and that's just not something she would do."

"Whatever you say, Doc."

Another pause. Cuddy was beside herself. After all her hard work and negotiating skill, _this_ was what was going all around the hospital?!? At least that explained why the last board meeting had gone so badly. She thought the board would be singing her praises, and they had barely acknowledged what she accomplished. No wonder.

"How's your leg today?"

"It's been worse."

"I know you pretty well by now, Doc. That means it's bad. I don't know how you deal with that every day with no pain meds."

"I have analgesics, such as they are. I don't really have any choice."

"That's so sad, Doc."

"It's an existence."

"And then you get to deal with your bitch of a boss and her psycho boyfriend on top of it. That's just not fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"Tell me about it. Why are they so pissed at you, anyway?"

"Well, I'm not exactly a model employee."

"Well, that's explains why the bitch _might_ be _annoyed_ at you. What about the creepy boyfriend?"

"No idea."

"It's one thing to be loyal to a significant other. It's quite another to go off on psychotic binges for them."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Why do you keep defending these people?"

"Well, I used to think of Lucas as sort of a friend. At least he acted kind of like one last year."

"Well, decent people, let alone friends, don't assault and publicly humiliate cripples, if you'll pardon the expression."

"I guess."

"And what's the deal with your boss, anyway? Why haven't you at least threatened to sue her?"

"Well, she used to be a friend, too."

"None I'd ever want, believe me. Say what you will about lesbians, but we don't dump our friends just because we get into a relationship."

Another break in the conversation occurred. Cuddy had gone from outraged to upset. Had House actually thought of Lucas as a friend at one point? That must have been when Wilson was gone. Cuddy always assumed House had been lonely without Wilson, but did he actually reach out to another human being? And had Lucas exploited that fact? And she "used to" be his friend? God, that really hurt. Not only because she felt the loss, but also because she knew it caused House pain, too.

"You know, you cut her a lot of slack, if you ask me."

"She used to do that with me."

"Well, loyalty's great and all that, but, after a while, you have to look out for number one, you know what I mean."

"Okay."

"You know, Doc, I'm getting the sense here that it's more than just being a loyal former friend . . . Oh my God, you like her don't you?"

"Who doesn't like their friends?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it. You're not looking at me, Doc. Holy shit, you don't just like this woman, you love her! My God, I always thought you were smart, but you're an idiot."

"That's me, member in good standing, Morons 'R Us."

"You do love her, you stupid jerk!"

"Yeah, I do. Always have. Fat lot of good it does me now."

"Oh, Doc, I'm so sorry."

They both were quiet. Cuddy sat there in total shock, mouth agape. A tiny part of her rational mind realized that sitting in her glass-walled office looking like nothing so much as a ravenous fish was probably not a good idea. It kept telling her to shut her pie hole, but her muscles didn't seem to want to follow the commands. And her eyes were having even more trouble following her higher brain because they had started to tear copiously. House, after all these years, had finally admitted he loved her. To a relative stranger. And a lesbian massage therapist, no less. Son of a bitch.

"We're about finished up here, Doc."

"Thanks again for the massage, Miranda. . . and . . . for everything else. Oh, and thank Sondra for having my back."

"No problem, Doc. I wish she could do more. Same time tomorrow?"

"That would be great. See you then."

"See you. I'll let you get dressed and I'll come back in and pack up my stuff."

Cuddy heard the door open and close, and then noise in the room. She assumed House was getting dressed. She pulled the earbuds out of her ears. Cuddy just didn't know how to deal with any of this. Lucas was bugging House's office, and tripping him on purpose? People thought she had slept with someone at the insurance company because she had such a creepy boyfriend? House _loved_ her? It was just too much to process, especially since she had another meeting in fifteen minutes.

As she collected her files for the meeting, she realized it wouldn't be a good idea to leave a listening device on the top of her desk. She put it in the drawer and locked it. She really should return it to Lucas, but she wasn't sure how to do that. Would she be forced to confront him about bugging House's office? The only way she would know that was if she had eavesdropped herself.

And what about Lucas tripping House? Again, not something she could really go after Lucas about since he knew about the trip wire she had used on House last year. Damn, why had she shared all this stuff with him? Because she thought he was a good guy and wouldn't use it against her. Maybe that was still the case. Maybe he had just left that thing there by mistake, just like he had switched his phone with the nanny's. Part of Cuddy's brain was telling her all of that was extremely wishful thinking, but she pushed that aside for now. Time for The Professional Woman Façade. She left for her meeting.

The rest of the day went without incident. She was actually relieved that she didn't have to deal with Lucas that night because he was on another stakeout. She didn't see him until the next morning when she was headed out the door. He tried to convince her to go for another quickie, but she begged off. She told him she didn't want to spend another morning frustrated, but that was only part of the truth. She was also beginning to have some nagging doubts about him and the relationship. Again, it was pushed aside as she left for work.

* * *

It was Wednesday and Cuddy found herself in her office at the same time as she had the previous morning. She knew she should just do her paperwork, but her curiosity got the better of her and she found herself pulling the listening device out of her desk and putting the earbuds in.

"How are you doing today, Doc?"

"Fine."

"Well, I know that's not true or you would have called me and told me not to come."

"No, really, it's okay."

"Whatever you say. Hey, I have a question. Would you ever consider coming over to my place for a massage?"

"Why, Miranda, is that a proposition?"

"Not from a girl that doesn't swing that way. No, it's just that my portable table is smaller than the one I have at home and you're so tall your feet hang off of this one. If they didn't, I could wrap them in the sheet and they wouldn't be so cold."

"They're not cold."

"No, they just feel like ice when I massage them."

"It doesn't bother me, really. Or is it an issue for you? Are you ogling my perfect feet while you massage me? Do you have a secret foot fetish, Miranda?"

"Heh. No. I've got a lot of problems, Doc, but that isn't one of them."

"What problems?"

"You don't want to hear about all that mess."

"You know me well enough by now to know that I don't make empty expressions of concern and I don't ask questions unless I want to know the answers. Come on, spill it."

"It's kind of painful to talk about."

"More painful than admitting my doomed, unrequited love for my boss, like I did last time?"

"Probably not. Okay, here goes. My dad left when I was two. I don't remember him. My mom divorced him and married my stepfather, Steve, about five years later. Things were actually okay for a while. But once I turned eleven, I got my first period and I started to grow boobs. Not much more than mosquito bites, mind you, but I had them. Apparently, this was a major turn-on for Steve, the sick bastard. He began to come into my room at night. It started with him touching me and his forcing me to touch him. Over time, he made me give him blow jobs, and by the time I was fourteen, he was raping me. My mom finally figured out what was going on when I got pregnant at sixteen. She sent me away to have the baby at my grandparents', and she divorced the S.O.B. At least she was smart enough to get a nice settlement. It paid for college."

"What happened to the baby?"

"He was eight pounds, two ounces, with brown hair and brown eyes, and I never saw him again after I held him when he was born. I'm sure he's happy with some middle class couple in suburbia somewhere."

"You don't keep in contact with him?"

"I think it would be better for his self-esteem if he didn't know he was the product of incest."

"He'll find out eventually. You can't hide stuff like that from kids."

"Well, his adoptive parents can deal with it, if it comes up."

"It'll come up."

"How can you be so sure?"

"He'll figure it out. I know I did."

"You're the product of incest, Doc?"

"No, but the guy who raised me wasn't my biological father."

"What?"

"My dad was in the military and he was away when I was conceived. I'm pretty sure it was a friend of the family, but I don't know the exact circumstances. It's not like my mom wants to share."

"How can you be sure, then?"

"When my dad died, I went to the funeral and I took a sample and tested the DNA. It didn't match."

"Pretty slick, Doc."

"I'm not so sure about that. I thought it would help me to know, but it didn't really. It did explain why my dad treated me like shit, though."

"What did he do?"

"A lot of verbal abuse. He made me sleep outside. He gave me ice baths."

"Ouch. No wonder you don't notice that your feet get cold."

There was a pause. More startling revelations. Cuddy felt badly about what had happened to this woman. It reminded her a little of Natalie and Rachel -- the teen parent part, anyway. At least Cuddy wouldn't need to explain incest to her daughter. And even though Cuddy wouldn't wish what happened to the massage therapist on her worse enemy, she didn't know her, so it was more of a kind of generic sympathy.

She was much more focused on what happened to House. His father wasn't his biological father? And he had been abused? Knowing House, Cuddy was sure he was downplaying it. He had probably suffered a lot worse treatment than he was willing to admit. Poor House. No, he would hate that.

"Time to turn over, Doc. Oops. Lost the sheet there. Let me cover you back up"

"Sorry. Does it bother you that I'm not wearing underwear?"

"It doesn't upset me or anything. Just don't expect me to get excited over your stuff."

"That's understandable."

"It's actually such a cliché. Sexually abused girl becomes lesbian because of childhood trauma. Kind of pathetic, really."

"I told you it's understandable. Hey, at least you can form a relationship with someone. I'm so screwed up, I can't even do that."

"I bet you could. I think you're just barking up the wrong tree."

"I very well might be. But it's not going to change. I'm not going to stop loving her."

"Well, after the shitty way she's treated you, if you still love her, I guess it isn't going to change. She doesn't deserve you."

"It's hardly been a one-way street. She's helped me a lot."

"Really?"

"She hired me when no one else would. I can't go into all the details, but she helped me with some legal problems that put her in jeopardy. She stayed with me when I was injured after a bus accident and a seizure."

"That's _sounds_ like a good friend. I take it all this caring was in the past. What happened to change things?"

"Damned if I know. I know I said some things to her when I was hallucinating and delusional that were offensive and embarrassing. She'd have every right to get pissed at me for that."

"Until she realized you weren't in your right mind. A person with even basic decency wouldn't blame someone for that."

"Then I guess I don't know why she hates me."

Cuddy was crying again. She wanted to shout that she didn't hate House. She, she . . . well, she felt something. Friendship. Affection. More? She had thought she was in love with him at Michigan, but she was so young then. And so much had happened since. Was she even capable of loving him? And even if she was capable, would she want to? And why was she even thinking about this? She was with Lucas now. She was so confused.

"We're done, Doc."

"Thanks again, Miranda."

"You keep calling, and paying, I'll keep coming."

"You have no idea how many women have told me the exact same thing."

"Uh, huh. I'm going to wash up in the bathroom and I'll be back to get my stuff."

Cuddy could hear noises again, and assumed House had gotten up from the table and was getting dressed. She pulled the buds out of her ears and locked the device in her desk as she left for her next meeting.

Cuddy was even more confused and conflicted after listening in that day. Again, she was relieved that Lucas was still on that same stakeout that night. He called her as she was leaving for the hospital on Thursday, letting her know he wouldn't be over that morning, that evening or the next morning. He said he was going to see her at lunch on Friday, no matter what. Cuddy should have felt disappointed at not seeing him, but she didn't. She hoped having a little more time would help her sort through her feelings.

* * *

Cuddy was so busy in meetings all day Thursday that she wasn't in her office for more than fifteen minutes at a stretch. So, she didn't know if House got a massage that day, and she wasn't able to listen in to the conversation if he did. It was odd, but she found she kind of missed it. He never opened up to her, and it had been good for her to find out about him, his life, and how he felt. The problem was that she could never acknowledge what she knew, given the way she learned it. Even more strangely, she found herself resenting Lucas because of it.

Ever since Cuddy returned to work after she had brought home Rachel, she made it a practice not to schedule meetings on Friday for anything other than emergencies. It gave her a chance to get caught up on paperwork (such as she _ever_ got _close_ to being caught up), so she could have some of time on the weekends to be with her daughter without work always looming over her shoulder.

When she first started dating Lucas, it had been great because it had given her the opportunity to be with both of them. It was this bonding time that had made them get closer, to the point of considering buying a loft and moving in together. Given how things had been going lately, she was more than a little relieved that things with the condo had fallen through. She thought that this was probably just a bump in the road, so to speak, and that she would probably still want that eventually, but she certainly needed more time to think about things. At least that's what she hoped.

Cuddy had arrived at work early and spent a few hours on paperwork. She went to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and returned to her desk. She noticed the time and she guiltily reached for the listening device. She put the earbuds in.

"I'm going away for the weekend, Doc. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I actually don't feel too crappy right now. Your sessions this week have really helped me. Going anyplace interesting?"

"We're driving down to North Carolina. Sondra's parents live down there. It should be a little warmer than New Jersey, anyway. Where do you like to travel, Doc?"

"I don't go many places. Cripples can't sightsee for very long, and hiking in the mountains or walking on the beach is out, too."

"You could just get away for a change of scenery."

"I can't be in a car for more than an hour or two without pain, and plane travel is a major hassle, with my cane and security, not to mention those cramped seats. Too little payoff for too much work. I'll go to a medical conference, occasionally."

"When was the last one of those you went to?"

"There was one in the Adirondacks last fall."

"That sounds nice."

"The hotel had big rooms with balconies, and there was a lake with a lot of trees turning color."

"It sounds better than nice. It sounds great."

"It was okay."

"I'm guessing something didn't go so well?"

"You know, Miranda, you're more perceptive than nine tenths of the shrinks I've ever encountered."

"Thanks. I'm just nosy. So, what happened?"

"Wilson was being an idiot. He decided he was going to give a talk about medically assisted suicide that would have tanked his career."

"Would have?"

"Yeah. I decided to go to the conference at the last minute, so I wasn't registered. I signed in as another doctor who didn't show up. I gave Wilson's speech as that doctor."

"Doctor Wilson agreed to that?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I had to stop him from destroying his career. I drugged him and took his pants. By the time he woke up and found something to wear, I was finished."

"You're something else, you know that?"

"Why, is that a compliment, Miranda?"

"You sound pretty happy that you did that, Doc. Or at least a little smug."

"It _was_ an accomplishment."

"Then why was the conference only okay?"

"I don't want to get into it."

"Come on, Doc. I told you I was repeatedly raped and impregnated by my stepfather. How bad could it possibly be?"

"Fair enough. Cuddy went to the conference and brought her daughter with her. Wilson said it would mean a lot to Cuddy if I offered to baby-sit. I went to the room and found Lucas was there. He had gone to the conference with Cuddy and her kid."

"Not your favorite person, I know, but he was her boyfriend, so not completely surprising . . . wait, it was a surprise, wasn't it?"

"She hadn't told Wilson or me she was dating Lucas. I felt like a total idiot. Wilson felt pretty stupid, too."

"You mean she hid the relationship from the two of you?"

"Yeah."

"Why? I don't understand. Aren't the three of you supposed to be friends? Why would she lie like that?"

"I don't know. I just know it hurt."

"Something else hurt, didn't it, Doc?"

"Wilson and I met them for breakfast on the last day of the conference. Lucas mocked me about a delusion I had about Cuddy."

"What an asshole. Wait, how did he know about your delusion? Oh my God, that bitch told him, didn't she?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't that completely violate HIPPA?"

"She wasn't my doctor, so, technically, no."

"Well, she's your boss, so isn't that a significant breech of confidentiality rules?"

"Maybe . . . "

"And what a brutal personal betrayal of a so-called friend. And you still love her?"

"I told you I was a charter member of The Moron Association."

As House and the therapist fell silent, Cuddy felt her cheeks flush with shame. Even when she told Lucas about the content of the delusion, she had a nagging thought that she shouldn't do it. But she and Lucas were in that first, intense phase of the relationship, and she wanted to share everything with him.

She had been mortified at the conference when Lucas said it, but she forgave him because she thought he was completely honest and he sometimes didn't have a filter between his brain and his mouth. At the time, she believed it was an unfortunate result of one his more endearing qualities.

Now that she analyzed the incident several months later, and had seen it through the perspective of House and this mostly impartial observer, she realized it was not as innocent as it had once seemed to her. Lucas had been trying to smack down House, and he wasn't above using the most personal, humiliating information to do it.

Another thought pushed its way into Cuddy's consciousness. Hadn't House just said that traveling wasn't enjoyable for him because more than a couple of hours in the car gave him serious leg pain? And she, doing what she thought she needed to do to "protect" her Thanksgiving holiday, and Lucas, as a "joke," had sent him three hours away and three hours back for a turkey sandwich. And here he was without even effective pain meds to help him. What the hell had he been she thinking? _I'm so, so sorry, House_, she thought.

"Your leg is a lot less knotted than it was at the beginning of the week."

"Thanks to you."

"You're very welcome. So, what are your plans for the weekend?"

"Nothing much. I just have to mock Wilson as he cleans the loft."

"Doctor Wilson does strike me as a bit of a clean freak."

"I keep forgetting you know Wilson."

"He was the one who gave you my name."

"Yeah. So how did you meet him, anyway?"

"Apparently, he locked himself out of his office and he needed to get back in. There was a new janitor who didn't know him and refused open the door for him unless he got approval from security. Sondra came up and gave the janitor the okay. Doctor Wilson wanted to thank her, so he asked her out for coffee. Well, Sondra knew his reputation with women and she didn't want him to get the wrong impression, so she asked me to come along. He was a little surprised at first, but he recovered quickly. When he found out I was a massage therapist, he told me about you and your pain. I told him I could help you."

"And you most certainly have, Miranda."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. I may even answer it."

"Why are two middle-aged guys, who aren't a couple, who aren't even gay, living together?"

"When I got out of Mayfield, my shrink told me I shouldn't be by myself. Since he's my only friend, he kind of got drafted to be my roommate. At least until he decides to toss me out."

"Why would he do that?"

"I piss off everyone eventually. That's why I'll wind up alone."

"Don't say that! You're a great guy! If I swung that way, I wouldn't mind hooking up with you."

"How little you know me. I'm a prick and a misanthropic bastard. Ask anyone who ever got close to me. I drive them away and make them miserable."

"Oh, please. Spare me the 'I have no real friends' routine. Listen, if you ever need a couple of friends, you just call Sondra and me. We'll hang out with you."

"Would I get to watch?"

"You're too much, Doc. I'm finished. Do you think you'll be okay for the weekend, or do you want me to give you the name of another massage therapist?"

"No one can replace you, Miranda."

"Yes or no?"

"I'll be fine."

"I'll call you when I get back and we'll set up a schedule."

"Okay."

Cuddy heard the now-familiar sound of House getting up and getting dressed. She had heard House say he believed he'd end up alone. How sad. She was about to pull the earbuds out when she looked up and saw Lucas standing in front of her desk. _Oh, shit_, she thought.

Lucas was dressed in some very shabby clothes. Was this part of his stakeout?

"Lisa, you really need to train your clinic staff better. I've been sitting out there for four days now, dressed like this. No one even noticed me."

"I take it you weren't there testing the efficiency and compassion of my staff."

"You know, it always seemed weird to me that a hospital would have so many glass walls and doors, what with privacy concerns and all."

"You've been watching me? What gives you the right to do that?"

"What gives you the right to listen in on House? Although I have to say there was some pretty good stuff there. Nice and personal. Not to mention humiliating."

"Why do you even have a bug in his office? Why are you so fixated on him?"

"Why are you, Lisa?"

"I'm not."

"No, you only listened to, what, three hours of his intimate conversations and sat here reacting emotionally."

"I was not emotional!"

"Looking so surprised you couldn't even close your mouth, blushing with guilt and shame, crying. I guess most people would call that emotional."

"You bugged House's office and left this device on my desk on purpose. You set me up. Why?"

"Because I suspected you hadn't gotten over him. Because I needed to know that was true. Because I was tired of House being in the middle of our relationship. Because we spent so much time focusing on what House would do, how he would react, what we needed to do to keep him away that we weren't doing anything for _us_. Because you kept denying your feelings for him and I wanted to show you that you were full of shit."

"What am I supposed to say here?"

" 'Goodbye' works."

"What?"

"I thought we had a good thing, Lisa. I was so excited when we were going to buy that loft together. When we didn't, I was really disappointed. I was surprised you weren't."

"I told you there would be other places."

"Except there weren't. You gave up looking. That loft symbolized our new life together. When you stopped looking, I knew you weren't interested."

"That's an awful lot to be hanging on a condo purchase, don't you think?"

"That's why I wanted to confirm it. That's why I left this here. I needed to know if House would always be in our way. And now I know he will."

"Lucas, it doesn't have to be this way. We could try to start over."

"Forget it. When we started to get serious, I put together a resume and sent it to a bunch of security companies. I thought I would be a better partner to you, and better for Rachel, if I had a steady job with regular pay and regular hours. I got an offer from a company in California. I wasn't on a stakeout the last three nights. I was packing up my stuff. I'll go by your place this afternoon and get the rest. My flight to L.A. leaves tomorrow at seven a.m. Oh, and I'll be taking this back now."

Lucas grabbed the listening device from Cuddy, turned, marched out the door and left the hospital. Cuddy was completely stunned. She sat there for a few moments simply trying to process what had just happened in her office. What had been happening all week. Hell, what had been happening for the last six months.

She knew it would take her a while to deal with the emotions. She snapped into administrator mode. House's office was still bugged, and now Lucas had the means to listen in on him. Her first thought was to run up to his office and warn him, but then she would have to admit to House what Lucas had done, and how she knew, so she have to admit what she had done, too.

Still, she couldn't leave the bugs in there. If nothing else, there would be tremendous liability if House and his team were discussing a patient and Lucas overheard. Just knowing there was a means for an unauthorized person to hear confidential patient information was a problem. Cuddy decided she could handle this at arms length. She called her chief of security and told him she had received a call from an anonymous source that there were some illegal listening devices in House's office. He started to question her, and she shut him down by telling him to take care of it and that she would talk to him about the circumstances later.

Now that the administrative stuff was taken care of, at least for the time being, Cuddy tried to re-focus on her paperwork, but she couldn't. Her boyfriend of nine months had just left her. She should be distraught about that, but she wasn't. Maybe she found out too many things about Lucas not to be relieved that he was out of her and her daughter's lives. She had also found that the relationship was not all what she thought it was, and that was due at least as much to her as it was to Lucas, if she were at all honest with herself. Messy, but she could go on living.

What she was really upset about was what had happened with House. He had apparently come back from Mayfield, at least clean and sober, if not actually a better person, and she had spent most of her time putting him down, pushing him away and letting her boyfriend abuse him. No wonder their friendship was in such bad shape.

And now that she knew he loved her, and that he had admitted it to himself, should she even try to fix anything? Would it be more cruel to try to go back to the way things were between them before Mayfield, knowing he would probably want more, if she couldn't give that to him?

She had been so happy when she and Lucas first got together. She admired his intelligence, his ability to read people, and his musical talent. She loved his honesty, even if it was a little hard to take at times. There were also his toned body, his blue eyes and his scruffy beard. It finally dawned on Cuddy that House was all those things, too. But if that was the case, then why had she had been so eager to be with Lucas, to the point of ignoring some seriously troubling behavior, and now she was reluctant to consider anything with House, who, despite all his problems, she knew she could trust with her life?

The only conclusion she could draw was that she was attracted to Lucas because what she saw (reality be dammed) was House Without The Baggage. She had wanted that little fantasy so much that she was willing to jeopardize her closest friendships and even her professional life. She also knew why it didn't work. House Without The Baggage simply wasn't House. It was a package deal. What had he told her after he decided to stop using the methadone last year? This is the only me you get.

So, it all boiled down to one question. Did she want House, with all the baggage, or didn't she? She would have to decide that once and for all -- for her sake, for Rachel's sake and for House's sake. She had some serious thinking to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.**

Cuddy went to the cafeteria to get some lunch and returned to her office. As she ate, she tried to think what her next steps should be. Thinking about a relationship with House was too much to deal with after she just broke up with Lucas. But, she knew that even her professional relationship with House was strained. She decided that she should focus on fixing that first. To do that, she was going to have to do something she hated. She was going to have to apologize. To both House and Wilson.

Rachel had reached that stage in toddlerhood where she was all over the place and into everything. Cuddy couldn't imagine trying to have a deep, serious discussion with anyone while keeping an eye on Rachel at the same time. So, Cuddy called her sister and asked if she could take Rachel until Sunday morning. Luckily, her sister agreed.

It was mid-afternoon when Cuddy left the hospital. She went to her house, sent home the nanny for the weekend and packed a small bag for Rachel. She had a three-hour drive there and back, so she would be home late, especially if she ate at her sister's, but it was worth it. Cuddy arrived back home at ten-thirty. She re-programmed the security code (just in case) and went to sleep in the guest room.

Even though it was Saturday, she was awake at five a.m., just like a work day. She indulged in an extra long yoga session, showered, and ate breakfast. She knew she couldn't call House and Wilson much before ten, which meant she had three and a half hours to fill with something to keep herself busy. She straightened up the house, and did a few loads of laundry. She washed the sheets on her bed, just to make sure all traces of Lucas were gone, even though he hadn't slept there in several nights. Speaking of her bed, it was late enough by now for her to make a call she'd been planning since yesterday afternoon.

"Mattress Warehouse, how may I help you?"

"Hi. I'd like to buy a new mattress, please."

"We usually recommend that people come to the showroom and lay down on them to try them out, ma'am."

"I just want to replace the one I have now."

"Did you buy that here?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Lisa Cuddy."

"With two d's?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And I see your address here. You live in Princeton?"

"Yes."

"You bought the Superior Pillow Top, king size, a little more than two years ago. You're replacing it that soon? Is there something wrong with it? It's past the warranty, but maybe we could do something for you, anyway."

"There's nothing wrong with it."

"Then why are you replacing it?"

Cuddy wasn't about to get into a discussion about trying to get rid of the bad memories and the bad karma associated with this particular piece of furniture. Not to mention that she didn't really think she could sleep well atop whatever DNA Lucas might have left behind from sloughed off skin and bodily fluids. What was it House always said? Everybody lies.

"When I said there was nothing wrong with it, I meant that there were no manufacturer defects. I have a one-year old and she had the flu. She was sleeping with me and she got sick from both ends and I just can't get the smell out."

"Oh. I have three kids, so I understand. You might want to invest in a plastic mattress pad cover. They're only about thirty bucks and you won't have this happen again."

"Yeah, I'll be heading out to get one of those today, too. How soon can you deliver the new mattress?"

"Let me check the schedule. Oh, we happen to be making a delivery to a house about two blocks away from yours this afternoon. We could throw one of these mattresses on the truck and get it to you around three, would that be okay?"

"Excellent. Let me give you my credit card number."

With that transaction completed, Cuddy returned to working on her laptop. It was after ten when she picked up the phone again.

"Hi, Wilson, it's me. I was wondering if I could stop by some time this morning?"

"You need to stop by? Why? Is something wrong at the hospital?"

"Um, no . . . this is personal."

"Personal? Is Lucas coming with you?"

"No."

"Okay . . . what about Rachel? The loft isn't exactly baby-proof."

"She's at my sister's until tomorrow morning."

"If Lucas isn't coming with you, why isn't she staying with him?"

"Listen, Wilson, I need to talk to you and House. Can I _please_ just come over?

"Okay. When?"

"What time is good for you and House?"

"Well, House hasn't showered yet, so could you give us forty-five minutes?"

"Sure. No problem."

Cuddy closed her phone. Wow, that was harder to arrange than she'd imagined it would be. Wilson had seemed very wary, almost paranoid. Had Wilson been in the cafeteria when Lucas tripped House? He did usually eat lunch with House. Was Wilson afraid of Lucas? Maybe not, but she could see where he might be protective of House.

Cuddy also remembered that Wilson was there at the conference when Lucas talked about House's delusion. Even if Wilson didn't have any physical fear of Lucas, he might be concerned about whether Lucas would try to humiliate House again. God, she'd been such an idiot to let Lucas into her life.

Cuddy went back to her laptop and continued working for a while longer. She left and headed over to the condo she and Lucas had once wanted to buy together. This was going to be interesting. No, make that weird.

The building had off-street parking and she pulled into the last spot available in the visitor's section. She rang the bell and Wilson let her into the lobby.

She took the elevator to the third floor. Ordinarily, she would have liked the exercise of walking up a few flights of stairs, but she was nervous. The last thing she wanted was to be breathless when she showed up at their door.

She rang the bell and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Thankfully, Wilson answered the door. She was relieved until she realized House might have gone out. She really wanted to speak to both of them. Actually, she wanted to talk to Wilson for a few minutes, and then talk to House longer. It would be a problem if he wasn't there. Wilson took her coat and showed her into the living room.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief when she saw House on the couch. He was engrossed in Saturday morning cartoons. Well, at least there was order in some part of the universe. Cuddy sat in one of the chairs. House looked up and acknowledged her. He even put the TV on mute.

"Listen, I need to tell you both a couple of things. First, Lucas left this morning for California. He took a job in L.A. and he won't be coming back, as far as I know. So, he and I are no longer together.

Cuddy waited for a response, but there wasn't one. Either Wilson and House were shocked, or they had decided that, since Cuddy was still their boss, a snarky response wasn't a good idea. She continued.

"I'm also here to apologize for the last nine months. I never should have hidden the fact that Lucas and I were dating. Wilson, I'm sorry I dragged you into Lucas and me trying to buy this condo. It was wrong to try to pull you into our plans."

"Plans to hurt House, you mean? Don't you think you owe _him_ an apology for that? Not to mention so many other things."

"I know. That's why I'm here to ask him to come with me to lunch."

"There's a place about two blocks away. Close enough for a cripple to walk there."

Cuddy was amazed that House had turned off the TV, hoisted himself off the couch and was quickly heading toward the door. He grabbed his coat. Cuddy rose from the chair, her eyes saying 'see you,' to Wilson as she got her coat and followed House out the door.

The place was very close, and House didn't seem too tired or in too much pain when they were seated in a booth in the back. It was fairly empty since the lunch crowd was just starting to come in. Given what she wanted to talk about, Cuddy was relieved.

"So, Cuddy, what's the big announcement?"

"I already made that, Lucas and I are no longer together and he went to L.A."

"You don't seem too broken up about it, I must say."

"It hurt a little the way it happened, or at least it was monumentally embarrassing, but it's for the best."

"Did he shout something about your sex life from the hospital balcony? Did he call your kid a terrible name?"

"He's not so much for the grand gesture as you are. He's more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy."

"That's better, right?"

"In this case, no. There's something to be said for knowing where you stand."

"I thought he was Mr. No-Barrier-Between-His-Brain-And-His-Mouth."

"Mostly; when it benefits him."

"Interesting."

There was a pause in the conversation as they studied the menu. The waitress came by a couple of minutes later and took their order.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"Didn't you just do that, back at the loft?"

"Actually, I apologized to Wilson."

"Close enough."

"Not really. Not for me. You know I'm not good at this, but I need you to hear it. I'm sorry for the last nine months. I'm sorry I hid my relationship with Lucas from you. I'm sorry you got blindsided with it at the conference. I'm sorry he tried to humiliate you about your delusion. I'm incredibly sorry that I told him about it in the first place. I'm sorry I went over to Wilson's apartment and told you there never was an 'us.' I'm sorry I invited you to Thanksgiving and then made you drive six hours for a turkey sandwich. I'm sorry I tried to rub your nose in the relationship by using Wilson when we were trying to buy the condo. I'm sorry I made such a big deal about that stupid picture. My dad wasn't even in it! I'm sorry about whatever I did that made Lucas think it was a good idea to trip you and hurt you."

"Yeah. Up until that point, I'd sort of admired his cleverness, but that wasn't really very ingenious, tripping a cripple."

"His cleverness?"

"Yeah, you know, the possum in Wilson's bathroom that caused that huge mess, and loosening the grab bar in the tub so I slipped and fell. Setting off the sprinklers in the loft and causing all that damage to our stuff."

"W-what?"

"I was impressed that he made it look like Wilson and I were pranking each other with the possum and the grab bar. I figured out it wasn't Wilson because I had to borrow tools from our neighbor to install the bar, so I knew Wilson didn't have to tools to loosen it. I still didn't know it was Lucas when the sprinklers went off. Of course, then he admitted all of it when he tripped me. Actually, he didn't admit it, he bragged about it. Even if that wasn't creative, I gave him points for chutzpah."

Cuddy sat there, completely stunned. What the hell was Lucas thinking? She shuddered inwardly. Thank God he was gone. She would never want someone in her life who was so capable of wreaking havoc, especially now that she had Rachel. House could certainly cause trouble, but it was mostly at the hospital. And he'd never done anything worse at her home than break in (with a key) and go through her underwear drawer, or interrupt a date that was going nowhere.

The waitress had set down their plates, but Cuddy really didn't feel like eating at this point.

"House, can I ask you something? When Lucas did all that stuff to you, why didn't you tell me?"

"At first, we didn't know it was him. When he finally admitted it, he told us he'd tell you that Wilson was the one that bought the condo out from under you, and you'd be pissed at us when you found out."

"And you guys bought that? Couldn't you figure out that I already knew?"

"I guessed Lucas was lying, what with Wilson having to change his place of residence with personnel and all. Plus, I thought Bonnie might have told you."

"She did, when I called her debating whether to make another offer. So, if you suspected Lucas wasn't telling the truth that I'd be mad, why didn't you tell me what he did?"

"He also said that buying the condo that way wasn't a nice thing to do, and he reminded us that you were our friend."

"You mean he laid a guilt trip on you?"

"Yeah."

"That son of a bitch. I didn't care about the loft at that point. In fact, I was kind of relieved. After I thought about it, as beautiful as the place was, I realized it probably wouldn't be good for Rachel, with no back yard and no families with young children for her to play with in the building."

"Kind of like getting a hard-on for a two-seater sports car, until the cold reality hits that you need a van for the kids."

"Something like that. _Lucas_ was the one who was still pissed about losing the loft. And he used our friendship not only to try to scare you into silence but to make you feel like crap about something I no longer cared about. And he knew that I didn't care because I told him that, too. What a manipulative prick."

"Kind of reminds me of me. I knew there was a reason I liked him."

"Well, I don't like it. Besides, other than Wilson, when was the last time you guilted someone into something?"

"Maybe a patient . . . "

"To help in their diagnosis, _not_ to exact revenge."

"Are you saying I'm a better person than Lucas?"

"I'm beginning to understand that most people are."

"Gee, even _me_?"

"Especially you."

Cuddy noted House's discomfort with the praise she was giving him, although she was hardly being effusive about it. He always deflected when anyone complimented him. She knew now that he had been belittled and abused by his father. Maybe he never felt worthy after that. Well, that was a discussion for another day. Today, she wanted to make sure House knew how sorry she was. She was also curious about something.

"Can I ask you why went on the stakeout with Lucas after he did all that?"

"I told you, I was impressed. Mostly. Besides, what's that expression, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?"

Cuddy winced when House said that. What had she actually subjected her friends to by bringing this man into her life? Well, she might as well apologize for that, too.

"Listen, I'm sorry for trusting Lucas and allowing him to get so close to me and to you and Wilson. Not to mention Rachel."

"At this point, it's just good that he's gone. You mind telling me something? He made all that effort to scare Wilson and me away from you, and then he just up and leaves? What happened?"

Cuddy knew this was getting into dangerous territory. She wasn't necessarily going to volunteer the information about using the listening devices, but, if House asked directly, she was going to tell him. No more games or deception.

"He said he was tired of our relationship being about you and he was walking away as a result."

"I don't understand."

"I guess Lucas and I spent too much time pushing you away from us, making you feel like crap, and abusing you and not enough time on actually building our own relationship."

"I take it that's Lucas's assessment of things. And he blamed you for that."

"Yes."

"What's your assessment?"

"I never really wanted _him_. He liked me and I thought a relationship with him would be easier because he was young. I assumed that meant he didn't have any baggage."

"Unlike an old fart like me, for example. No chronic pain, no substance abuse or mental issues, no assholish-ness . . . "

"Turns out in that last department, he was way ahead of you. There was also my own stuff – the insecurity, the need to control, and the middle-aged-single-mother-not-in-a-relationship-desperation. Throw in that we didn't have a history together, or respect for each other, and that he was too busy establishing his alpha-maleness by pissing on his real or imagined rivals, and it's a wonder things lasted as long as they did."

"It sure as hell seemed like an eternity to me."

"Since you were the primary target of his piss, I'll bet it did. I'm sorry about that, too."

House had finished his food and Cuddy had eaten as much as she could. She had the waitress wrap the leftovers and she paid the bill. They lingered over their coffee.

"So, you're going home to relieve the babysitter and spend the afternoon with the kid, huh?"

"No. I guess Wilson didn't tell you Rachel is at my sister's until tomorrow morning."

"Oh, yeah, he did say something about that."

"I have to go home and wait for a delivery later, but, since Rachel isn't around, I don't have much else other than work to keep me busy."

"It's Saturday, Cuddy. Don't do work."

"It's an excellent time filler. And it makes me so respected by my staff and the board. At least when they don't think I'm sleeping with insurance executives to get a better deal."

Oops. Cuddy wasn't sure if she should have said that since she found out about it from listening in on House and his massage therapist. Well, it was a rumor going around the hospital, so she could always claim she overheard some nurses or something. She was beginning to think she would have to tell House about the eavesdropping at some point, preferably before she slipped and said something that she could only know from what House and the massage therapist discussed.

"I've heard that rumor. That sucks."

"Well, all I know is no one questioned my accomplishments before I was with Lucas. You can be good at a job for over ten years, and destroy your reputation in a few months."

"You can get it back, Cuddy."

"There's a part of me that doesn't want to. I know now that dating Lucas was a mistake. But what if I want to date someone else? Would everything I do be judged against who I was dating? If he was a wealthy or successful businessman, let's say, would that make what I do better? And what if he wasn't?"

"I don't think people cared that you were dating someone that wasn't high-powered. I think people cared that you were dating someone who, for want of a better word, was a creep."

"I hope that's the case, because it's unreasonable for people to expect me to either get approval for who I date or take a vow of celibacy just to do my job."

"Do you have someone lined up? Did you actually get Lucas to think he dumped you so you could be with someone else?"

Okay, now Cuddy was cornered. If she said she wanted to be with someone else, House would want to know who, and she was nowhere near ready to tell him she was considering a relationship with him. She could be vague about who it was, but then House would assume someone else besides him was in the picture, and that would hurt him. She'd already treated him like crap for nine months, she didn't want to be responsible for making him feel any worse. And if she said she didn't want to be with anyone else that would shut him down, too. She opted for sarcasm.

"It's only been about twenty-fours hours since I broke up with someone I'd been dating for nine months, seriously enough to consider moving in with him at one point. I think I'm entitled to at least finish out the weekend before I have to decide on the next man in my life."

"You're not that young anymore, Cuddy. You shouldn't wait too long."

"This from a man who just became old enough to be eligible to join the AARP."

"Hey, I'm a classic. I'm timeless."

"I guess gray is a classic color, even in hair."

"Just because your color comes out of a bottle . . . "

"Hey, it's better than you -- your erections come out of a bottle."

God, she'd missed this. It was starting feel almost normal again.

"So, what are you going to do this afternoon, Cuddy?"

"I told you, I'm going home to wait for a delivery."

"What are you having delivered? A new LED TV?"

"I know I'll regret telling you this, but I'm having a mattress delivered."

"Can I come over and help you break it in?"

"I'm going to take you back to the condo, House."

"Yes, Cuddy."

* * *

A/N: I hope you'll forgive some license here and there in this chapter. For those of you outside the US, please don't be jealous that we can get furniture delivered on a weekend. Even with our more raw, unregulated form of capitalism, most businesses confine deliveries to Monday through Friday (at least in my part of the country, anyway). I decided it was easier this way than having to write a bunch of boring exposition about Cuddy having to be home when the mattress was delivered during the week, or telling the nanny, etc.

Also, I'm aware that many of the readers on this site are young, so you may think Cuddy is exaggerating about the AARP (American Association of Retired Persons). Unfortunately, she's not. Once you turn fifty (even though most people don't consider that retirement age), you start getting mailings from AARP urging you to join. It's not just bad for your ego, it's bad for the country, IMO. AARP is a powerful lobby that makes sure older people get goodies from the federal government (Social Security increases, Medicare, prescription drug coverage, etc.), many times to the detriment of younger people and children in particular. And AARP is basically a lobby for insurance companies. As you can tell, they're not my favorite organization. Anyway, I'm going back to work on Chapter 3, so I hope I'll have that up in the next couple of days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.**

It had been two months since Lucas left for California. Spring had arrived and things were mostly back to normal for Cuddy. She went to work every day and came home to Rachel at night. It had taken her less time to get past Lucas than she thought it would. She was a little lonely, though. She also thought she was ready to see if she could try for a relationship with House. She just had one more thing she needed to know.

Her opportunity came unexpectedly when her nanny asked for a Friday off. Cuddy said it wouldn't be a problem. Since she had no meetings on Fridays, she would just bring Rachel to the office with her.

A little before lunch, a lab tech was burned when there was an explosion. Since Princeton Plainsboro had only a small burn unit, which was full because of a multi-car pile-up earlier that week, the tech had to be transported by helicopter to Princeton General.

No one knew what caused the explosion. (Cuddy noted that House didn't have a case and was actually working in the clinic that morning, so neither he nor his team was anywhere near the lab.) The Director of Safety closed the lab, pending an investigation. Since it was a major inconvenience to send the lab work out to other facilities, Cuddy needed to meet with him to discuss how to move the investigation along. She also had to meet with PPTH's attorneys to assess their potential legal liability.

Cuddy pondered what to do with Rachel while she was in these meetings. She checked with on-site day care, and not only were they at full capacity, they were down one employee due to a respiratory illness, and the director told her a couple of the kids seemed to be coming down with the same thing. There was no way Cuddy was going to expose Rachel (and, by extension, herself) to that. So, she would have to find someone on staff to help her. Most of her staff had jobs that kept them very busy all the time, with the exception of one tall, blue-eyed diagnostician.

Cuddy arrived with Rachel, a backpack and a file under her arm at House's office after lunch to find him playing on his PSP.

"House, I have meetings until four today. I need you to watch Rachel."

"And why would I do that, Cuddy?"

"For one thing, if you are watching Rachel, you don't have to work in the clinic."

"So, I'm trading multiple runny noses for one snot-nosed kid? What benefit is that?"

"Her snotty nose isn't contagious, for one thing. Also, I have another incentive."

"You'll use your extensive network of high-powered people to get me a date with Kiera Knightley?"

"In addition to the clinic hours you avoid today, I'll give you one-half hour off of clinic duty for each hour you watch Rachel."

"Two hours for each hour I watch her."

"An even exchange – one hour for one hour."

"Deal."

"Her snacks and a juice cup are in this pocket, her diapers and wipes are in the main compartment, and there's a change of clothes and a blanket back here. Oh, and on this side are some sealable plastic bags for used diapers and wipes, although you shouldn't have to change her because I just did. See you at four."

Cuddy left Rachael and the backpack with House, and took the folder with her as she left his office and headed toward the elevators.

House got up from his chair and snared the backpack. He put it on his desk.

"Don't suppose your mom left you any toys to amuse yourself with, huh?"

Rachel looked at House without making a sound. House began digging through the backpack. Sure enough, there was nothing in there for Rachel to play with, except a rather ratty-looking bear. House handed the bear to Rachel, who clutched it tightly.

"I guess playing is just too messy for your obsessive mom, eh, kid?"

Rachel looked at him quizzically, and then she yawned.

"Is it naptime? It would be great not to have to amuse you for a couple of hours. Wanna lie down on the couch?"

House had retrieved the blanket from the backpack and was waving it in front of Rachel as though she were a bull and he was a matador.

Rachel walked over to House and held up her arms.

"Want me to pick you up? Not sure that's such a good idea. Like I said, why don't you try the couch?"

Rachel continued to hold up her arms.

"If telling you, with my leg and my personality, I'm not so much for the cuddling thing."

Rachel's lower lip began to quiver. As little as House knew about both young children and emotions, even he recognized that couldn't be a good thing.

"Okay, okay. Just don't start the waterworks."

House realized his reputation would take a serious hit if he was seen holding a small child. He walked around her and locked the doors and closed the blinds. He took Rachel's hand and they went to his eames chair. House made sure his laptop, his remote, and his PSP were within reach. He sat down and put his legs on the ottoman. He reached down and pulled Rachel up on to his good leg, holding her as far way as possible.

Despite House's effort to keep her at bay, Rachel moved up his leg until she was able to rest her body against his abdomen and lay her head on his chest. One arm held the ratty bear.

House couldn't believe obsessive Cuddy let her kid anywhere near such a filthy object. Since Cuddy hadn't been a real doctor for years, she had obviously forgotten the even the basics like the germ theory of disease. House would have to remind her.

Rachel's other arm lay across House's chest. He covered her with the blanket. She fell asleep within minutes.

House soon realized he really couldn't use his PSP without disturbing her. His soap wasn't on for another hour and a half, so he wasn't interested in TV. He read some medical journals for a while. When that started to bore him, he fired up his laptop. Even though Rachel was asleep, and the doors to his office were locked and the blinds were down, he decided that visiting his favorite porn sites should wait. He surfed for a while, finding absolutely nothing to interest him.

He entertained the idea of getting up and putting Rachel on the couch while she slept so he could use his PSP again. He thought that jostling her could very well wake her up, and then the waterworks might start. He also wasn't sure he could get out of the chair carefully enough with his leg to avoid any mishaps, not to mention dealing with his cane, and getting her, the blanket and the ratty plush toy to the couch. Nope, he was stuck there with nothing to do. Well, his leg wasn't hurting too badly at the moment, so maybe he could take a quick nap himself.

House awoke to Rachel stirring on his chest. He looked down at her and she looked back sleepily.

House checked the clock and it was three. Time for Prescription Passion.

"We're gonna watch some TV, okay, kid?"

House used the remote to turn on the television and select the correct channel. Rachel turned away from House and looked at the images flashing across the screen. It held her interest for a few moments.

Then, Rachel slid down off of House's lap and headed for the backpack. She dragged it over to him. At the first commercial break, House looked down at her.

"What? You know there are no toys in there for you to play with."

Rachel pulled at it again. House was trying to understand what she wanted.

"Are you hungry? You want some of the no doubt disgustingly healthy snacks your mom packed for you?"

Rachel's eyes lit up and House knew he had figured it out. _Another puzzled solved_ he thought smugly as he reached into the section of the backpack containing the food. He pulled out the juice cup and put it on his desk.

"Let's see what we have here. As I suspected, nothing good like chips or cookies. Too bad, I would have loved to get you all sugared up and give you back to your mom. Baby carrots, strawberries and Goldfish. How about you take the fruits and veggies and I eat the crackers?"

House had spread the three bags out on his desk. He pulled Rachel back on his lap, setting her on his good leg, turning her to face toward the desk. He opened the bags, and reached in for a handful of Goldfish and Rachel grabbed a carrot. The commercials had ended and his soap was back on.

"Okay, time to be quiet now, kid."

House wasn't sure why he said that, since Rachel couldn't talk yet. Of course, he was sure she was capable of making a vast quantity of ear-splitting sounds if she wanted to. All kids could. He was munching on the crackers and trying to focus on the show.

Strangely, he found his attention drifting elsewhere. Rachel was picking up the carrots, chewing them one at a time and then reaching for another. Nothing at all remarkable there, but he couldn't stop watching her. Her little hand would go into the bag, pull out a carrot, bring it to her mouth and so she could bite off a piece and gnaw on it, and hold the remaining piece in her tiny fingers.

Again, there was nothing the least bit noteworthy about what she was doing. She was just a kid feeding her face. What was surprising, no, astonishing, to House was how watching it made him feel. There was this pang in his chest. What was that? Simply looking at her eating was amazing, beautiful . . . _adorable_?

What the hell? House shook his head, trying to clear the bizarre thoughts away. He resisted the urge to call Nolan and request an immediate change to his psych meds. He continued to watch her and try to sort out what he was feeling. After a while, Rachel looked up at him, and, between bites, gave him a rather impressive, open-mouthed, train-wreck of a smile.

Oh, shit, there was that pang again. It came on him with even more intensity than last time. House was starting to get worried now. He really had to get a hold of himself. Gregory House, detached scientist, misanthropic bastard, curmudgeon, feeling something like affection towards someone? And a small child, no less. Just what the fuck was happening to him?

It was three-thirty and Cuddy was heading down to House's office from the conference room on the seventh floor. Her meeting with the Director of Safety had gone well. The preliminary investigation was almost complete. It seemed that lab tech had mixed together some chemicals that led to the explosion. They had determined that one of the chemicals had been labeled incorrectly at the factory. The bottle of the chemical had been removed and other bottles of chemicals from this manufacturer were being checked. The clean-up was also proceeding and the lab would be open again by next Wednesday.

Cuddy's meeting with the attorneys was both productive and speedy. As soon as they found out the chemical manufacturer had made the error, they told her it would be very unlikely that PPTH would have any liability for what happened.

She had even heard from her colleague at the other hospital and found out the burns the tech had suffered were not nearly as extensive or severe as they had first thought.

Cuddy called her florist in the elevator on the way down. She had a large arrangement sent to the tech's room at Princeton General. She got off the elevator and proceeded to House's office. The blinds were down and she found the door was locked.

Given all the problems House had generated over the years in her hospital, including nearly dying more than once, Cuddy made a practice of keeping a key with her for his office. She slipped it in the lock and pushed the door open quietly, just in case Rachel was still taking her afternoon nap.

She saw Rachel sitting on House's lap, eating some carrots off his desk. House was intently observing Rachel, which was strange given what she was doing was really not all that interesting. There was also an odd expression on his face that, initially, Cuddy couldn't quite figure out. What was it?

It slowly dawned on her that the expression was affection. House actually looked like he _cared_ about Rachel. It was totally unexpected. She had been holding his office keys, and she was so surprised that her hand slackened and the keys slipped out and landed on the floor. The noise made House look up, and he noticed her for the first time. Of course, his mask went immediately back into place.

"You're early, Cuddy. I thought you said your meetings wouldn't be over until four. I still better be getting the full hour off clinic duty for this."

"Um, yeah, okay. How was Rachel?"

"She slept most of the time. Just so I don't get reported, I did try to get her to sleep on the couch, but she would only sleep on my chest. You really have to teach your kid to be more selective than to climb on the lap of just anyone."

"Given your ego, House, I can't believe _you_ think you're just _anyone_."

"True, but she's not old enough to discern that yet. I meant you need to teach her about strangers."

"Well, they don't come much stranger than you, House."

Rachel had finished her carrots and walked over to be picked up by her mom. House put the remaining snacks back in the backpack and stuffed the blanket back inside. He picked up the bear and looked at it.

"Cuddy, you surprise me."

"_Me_, surprise _you_?"

"That's what I said. I never thought someone as obsessive as you are would allow her kid to play with this dirty, smelly thing. I know you haven't been a real doctor for a long time, but even you can't have forgotten the importance of basic hygiene."

"I guess Simon could use a turn around the wash."

"Simon?"

"It's what we call him."

"We? You do realize that your kid can't talk yet, right?"

"I know. But it's better than calling him 'Bear,' or some other stupidly obvious name."

"Alright, I'll concede that."

House tossed the toy to Cuddy, who caught it and handed it to Rachel.

"Hey, it's supposed to stop raining by tomorrow morning. Do you want to come to the park with us tomorrow afternoon?"

"And do what exactly, swing from the jungle gym? Cripples don't do that very well, you know."

"You could sit on one of the benches and relax and get some fresh air."

"I'm not sure my heart could take the excitement."

"You can come back to the house after and have dinner with us. I know how you love a free meal. I'll even cook something."

"Do you even know how to make anything but salad?"

"I've been know to cook an entrée or two . . . "

"It has to be some form of animal protein. No tofu, tempeh, or any other soy-based protein-substitute abomination."

"Okay, but don't expect a huge slab of barely cooked red meat, either."

"I'm disappointed but not surprised."

"Is that a 'yes,' then?"

"What time?"

"How about one?"

"Okay."

Cuddy had picked up Rachel's backpack while they were talking. She and Rachel turned and left House's office.

It was about time for House to get ready to leave for the weekend. He still had a puzzle to try to solve, though. He turned off the TV and picked up the large red ball. Even though he thought he had covered up his emotions pretty well when Cuddy came into his office, he still couldn't understand why he was feeling those things.

He had never felt anything truly good about Cuddy's kid. At first, he even resented her. He had been proud of the fact that he made it to neutral. Now, he was feeling positive towards her. Well, more than just positive, if he was honest with himself. Why was he turning all mushy inside?

House's mind worked. What had changed? Well, she was a little older, so she was less of a baby blob and more interesting in that she could do things. Not that she was ready to defend her PhD thesis yet. But it did have something to do with her activities, he reasoned. What specifically was she doing when House first felt something? She was eating. Carrots. House doubted it was her attraction to beta carotene that did it.

Well, then, what was it? He remembered feeling it as he watched her eat. Her little hands, her tiny bites, seeing a mouthful of very chewed food when she smiled at him. It seemed to center around the act of her feeding herself. But why would that be it?

House thought for a while and then it came to him. It must have to do with evolution. During most of human history food was scarce. A lot of the time, it must have come down to either the parent or caregiver eating or the child eating. Humans probably evolved to find pleasure in giving food to children to make certain the children got the food first, thus ensuring the survival of the next generation. The parent would get an endorphin rush as a reward that could easily be mistaken for affection or love. Or so House surmised.

Okay, mystery solved. House put the ball back in its rightful place on his desk. He packed up his stuff and headed out of his office and down to the parking lot. It was still raining, and House was glad he drove his car this morning.

Cuddy said it was supposed to stop by tomorrow morning, so maybe he could ride his motorcycle over to her place in the afternoon. He was surprised that the thought made him feel not unhappy. Of course, it was about the bike ride, not about seeing Cuddy or the kid.

Cuddy took the elevator down to her office. Since she had invited House to dinner tomorrow night, she decided to do an internet search for a recipe. Within a few minutes she had found a chicken dish she thought he would eat. She printed it and packed up her things. She and Rachel were going to stop on the way home at the supermarket and pick up the ingredients.

Today, she had the opportunity to find out what she needed to know. House was capable of caring about Rachel. Cuddy had seen it on his face. Now that she knew House was at least okay with Rachel (and maybe more?), she had to figure out how to be with him herself. Piece of cake, right?

* * *

A/N: I hope House wasn't too OOC in this chapter. I just didn't think Cuddy would even entertain the idea of a relationship with him unless he could at least tolerate Rachel. I hope the whole idea that House could learn to care about Rachel by watching her eat isn't too strange. I'm working from my own experience here, which I'd like to think isn't unique. There is something like achieving Death by Adorable when you watch your young kids eat. (Especially if you completely ignore companion thoughts concerning cleaning up.) Anyway, I thought it was in character that House would try to push away the feelings, and also that he would need to find some kind of scientific explanation for them.

Just to let you know, this story may not get updated for a bit. I really should get the next chapters of Fifty and A Half and Domestication up. We'll just see where the muse wants to visit next. I'm at her mercy, as always.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.**

House parked his motorcycle in Cuddy's driveway a little before one on Saturday. He'd wanted to bring something over to Cuddy's, but he wasn't sure what. Since he didn't know what she was preparing for dinner, his options were pretty limited. He'd been through detox, and he decided bringing alcohol wasn't the best idea. It also wasn't easy to transport bottles on his bike.

Knowing that Cuddy watched her weight like a hawk, and guessing that she kept the kid's sugar intake to an absolute minimum, he figured she probably didn't have anything planned for dessert. He would have liked to bring cheesecake, but, again, a bike was not exactly the ideal conveyance for that. He settled on some cookies from his favorite Italian bakery. He'd asked for them to be packaged for shipping, figuring that would be sufficient protection. It cost a little extra, but it was worth it to be sure he didn't wind up with a pile of inedible crumbs.

He grabbed the cookies out of the panniers. He'd never wanted panniers because he always thought they made the bike look stupid, and they cut down on the bike's aerodynamics. Not to mention they made the rider look like a total geek. However, he did sometimes use the bike when he went shopping, so he had broken down and purchased some black nylon ones that he felt weren't too conspicuous. They'd come in handy today, that was for sure.

House lifted the box and shook it gently to assess the damage. It didn't sound like everything was completely pulverized, so that was good. He grabbed his cane from the holder, swung his leg over the bike and headed toward the front door.

He rang the bell and waited. Cuddy opened the door and let him into the foyer. House looked around for Rachel but he didn't see her.

"Hi."

"Hi. Where's the kid?"

"Since we're going to be in the park for a decent part of the afternoon, I put her down to take her nap early. She's still asleep. What's that?"

"Dessert. I don't think it got too destroyed on the way over."

He handed her the box.

"Can I take your coat? You probably needed it on the bike, but I think it's warm enough with the sun that you won't need it at the park."

"Okay."

House slipped it off and handed to her. Cuddy hung it on the coat rack. She'd forgotten how good a well-worn leather jacket could smell. And a jacket worn by House smelled even better. And it looked pretty sexy on him, too. _Whoa, down girl!_ she thought.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"A glass of ice water would be great."

"Why don't you come in the kitchen with me?"

Cuddy had decided that both of them sitting on upholstered chairs in her living room would feel too much like they were supposed to have A Formal, Significant Discussion. She knew she was a little nervous and she suspected House was, too, although, as usual, he was very good at hiding what he was feeling. She just thought they would be more comfortable in her kitchen.

She put the box with dessert on the counter, got a glass and some ice and water from the door of her refrigerator and put it on the table in front of one of the chairs. House pulled out the chair and sat down as she got another glass, put some ice in it and reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of pomegranate tea. He watched her as she poured it, put it back in the fridge and sat down opposite him.

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause as they stared at each other.

"This is ridiculous."

"What?"

"How long have we known each other, Cuddy? Over twenty years?"

"Something like that."

"And we've worked together every day for, what, ten years?"

"Yes."

"Then why is this so awkward?"

"I don't know . . . maybe because it feels like we're starting over somehow?"

"God, I hope not. I'm too old to act like I don't know someone who's been in my life for almost half of it."

"You have to admit that in the last year or two, we've been rather, um, distant."

"Not because of me."

"Oh, so you had nothing to do with it, eh? You were supportive when I tried to adopt Joy and got me through it when it didn't happen? Again, you were helpful when I decided to foster Rachel and I had a rough patch at the beginning? You didn't decide to go with a hooker after you had the desk brought back to my office? When I expressed interest in you, you didn't behave completely inappropriately by grabbing my boob? And you had no unresolved issues with Amber's death, or Kutner's? And there was no time spent in a mental hospital detoxing and getting therapy?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who made her crippled friend walk up four flights of stairs, stole his cane or used a trip wire on him, I'm not the one who couldn't wait to acquire a new, young boyfriend the minute the man I had told, 'everyone thinks this is going somewhere,' left for the looney bin. I'm not the one who hid this relationship from her supposed friends, who made her crippled friend spend six hours in a car just to trick him away from celebrating Thanksgiving with her. And I'm not the one who allowed her crazed boyfriend to engage in some really nasty pranks against her so-called friends."

Well, there it was. Every grievance each had suffered at the other's hands for the past two years. It wasn't pleasant, but at least it was out there.

"Well, I apologized for most of that stuff. Especially for the stuff involving Lucas. You haven't even said you were sorry about anything."

"You know how I feel about apologies. They're just words."

"You don't think I actually regret what Lucas did to you? To us?"

"Yes, but it doesn't change anything."

"What does change things?"

"Doing something."

"What should we do then?"

"How the hell should I know? I've been treating people like crap my whole life, and they've returned the favor. I have no idea how to make that up to anyone and to get anyone to treat me decently in return. Why do you think I've been in therapy all this time? Hell, Wilson is my best friend, my _only_ friend, and I can't even get him to forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?"

"Amber . . . Amber's death."

"I'm pretty sure he never blamed you for that in the first place. At least that's what he told me. Um, when we were still speaking to each other about things other than hospital business."

"Burned a _lot_ of bridges, recently, huh?"

"Getting back to Amber . . . "

"I'd rather not. For one thing, it still isn't a laugh riot for me to talk about her, what with the hallucinations and all. Second, that's my issue with Wilson, not my issue with you. As we've both pointed out, we have plenty of those to work on already."

"So, what do we do?"

"Again, how the hell should I know?"

"Well, does your therapist have any ideas?"

"What, you have another boyfriend waiting in the wings and you need some new material to share to bond with him by humiliating me?"

"I guess I deserved that . . . I wasn't actually asking for you to reveal any more of your personal issues. I was asking if he had any techniques to fix relationships."

"What, like a 'How To' guide or something?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it does make it sound trivial. But, I just want to get past all this, and I'm willing to try pretty much anything to do that."

"Anything? Well, my therapist and I have talked about the importance of sex in personal relationships."

"You and Wilson working out a lot of things with sex, are you?"

"Hey, I tried, but he just wasn't game."

"How narrowed-minded of him!"

"I couldn't agree more. I'm hoping you'll be more willing to consider it."

"I'm guessing that sex between us, should we ever get to that point, is not going to be a problem. If we mess things up, it's going to be about other things."

"Glad to know you've got that part all worked out."

"We'll never get to it if we don't figure out this other stuff."

"Well, I might suggest that if it gets too difficult, we just go right to what we know will work, which, by your own admission, is sex. But I'm guessing that's not going to happen."

"You are _so_ right about that."

"Wonderful. I get to be right about that, of all things."

"I thought you loved being right."

"Usually, I do, but in this case, not so much."

"So, what are we going to do?"

"And for the third time I repeat, I have no clue."

"You know, maybe you're right that we can't really 'start over,' but maybe we can set this stuff aside for a while."

"I'm such a big fan of denial, I wound up in the asylum, so, works for me . . . no, wait, that _didn't_ work me . . . "

"I'm not saying we deny it, I'm just saying we don't try to deal with it all at once, today. God knows it'll come up again."

"I guess that works. And what do we do in the meantime, while we're waiting for these issues to surface?"

"I don't know. Maybe when Rachel wakes up we can go to the park. And then you could stay for dinner."

"Hmm, that sounds familiar . . . "

As if on cue, Cuddy and House heard Rachel making noises in her bedroom. Cuddy got up from the table, went and changed Rachel and appeared in the kitchen.

"Could you grab her backpack?"

"Aren't you going to feed her lunch?"

"I gave her some food before her nap. And I have snacks in the backpack."

"Yeah, I've seen your alleged snacks. That's why I brought my own stuff."

"Just don't give my daughter any of that junk."

"Oh, Cuddy, don't you know how hard it is for me to say 'no' to an adorable little girl like Rachel?"

"Oh. please. It's just part of your evil plot to get her buzzed on sugar and hand her off to me. Just remember, if you give her something at the park this afternoon, it will take effect just about the time we want to sit down for dinner."

"Damn, so much for that plan."

They walked the two blocks to the park.

"I thought you said I could sit on a bench; there aren't any seats."

"If I'm not mistaken, the end of that bench is designated for handicapped."

"You mean where that really fat guy is devouring his second bacon double-cheese burger and polishing off the extra-large fries and shake?"

"Yeah, that would be the spot."

House went over to the guy and held up his cane and pointed to it.

The guy grumbled something about "damn cripples" and got up, leaving most of his empty wrappers on the ground.

"I'm not picking up after you," House yelled to the guy as he walked away. In a short time, a park employee came by and snagged the waste with a spindle.

As House settled in on the bench, he watched Cuddy and Rachel. Cuddy was hovering very close by, supervising all of Rachel's activities. No surprise there. House was already convinced that between Cuddy's desperation to have a child and her need to control everything, this kid wouldn't have so much as a scratch on her until she was at least eighteen and had gone to college.

If nothing else, House tried to convince himself, he needed to be around to make sure this kid had some kind of real childhood. He'd let her stay up to watch something a little bit beyond the "appropriate" age. He'd teach her to play some raunchy blues on the piano. He'd let her eat junk food every now and then. When she was old enough, he'd take her on his motorcycle. House found he was smiling to himself at the image of this girl being excited to see him while Cuddy objected to the things they did. He liked the idea that he and Rachel could become partners in crime.

The bench cleared a bit as the afternoon wore on. Cuddy put Rachael in the sand pit, which was very dirty, but also very safe, and went to sit on the bench next to House.

"You're looking extremely smug," Cuddy noticed as she planted herself on the seat next to him.

"Nothing to be smug about," was his retort, as he kept his thoughts to himself.

"Well" Cuddy noted, "You were thinking about _something_ when I came over here."

"Being a sentient human being, I can't help but think about _something_," House noted.

"As long as you weren't thinking inappropriate thoughts about little children while sitting on a park bench like an old pervert, then it's okay," Cuddy snarked.

"Just call me Aqualung," House deflected. There was no way he'd actually tell Cuddy what he had been thinking. For one thing, she would never approve of any of those things for her daughter, so House would have to slip them under the radar somehow. That meant no broadcasting of his plans.

Second, House had no idea if he'd even be around long enough to see any of this stuff occur. _If I die because of all the crap I've put in my body over the years, it's too late to change that, anyway_. _But I can't voluntarily walk away. Not this time. This may very well be my last chance. Both with Cuddy, and . . . to be happy. Wait a minute_; House thought to himself, he simply didn't do happy. As if he would actually allow himself to want that sentimental bullshit, anyway. And yet, he wanted it. Hell, maybe the therapy was doing . . . something. Although he still had no idea how to become happy. Or even content.

They spent another hour at the park, with Cuddy and Rachel playing and House firmly planted on the bench. They walked back to Cuddy's place to start dinner.

House was drafted, amid copious protests, to chop vegetables and make the salad. Cuddy cleaned the chicken and prepared the ingredients for the sauce.

They had a leisurely meal. After, Rachel played for a while, but she was tired and went to sleep after her bath with minimal protest. House and Cuddy found themselves sitting on the couch in her living room.

"I should probably get going."

"It's only seven-thirty. Why not stay for a while?"

"How long?"

"How should I know? As long as it feels like you should."

"And you know how well I deal with _feelings_."

"Just relax and stop making such a huge deal out of it, will you?"

"I should probably call my babysitter and let him know I'm not going to be home right away."

House retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jeans and pressed a number in his speed dial.

"Um, yeah . . . I'm at Cuddy's place . . . oh, please . . . I don't know . . . later . . . I said _later_."

House hung up the phone.

"I take it he was thrilled with the call."

"Sure, if you can call telling me he'd be up all night worrying whether I drove my bike into a ditch and was lying there slowly bleeding to death 'thrilled' . . . "

"God, Wilson is a worse drama queen than any thirteen-year-old girl."

"Even though it's completely misguided, it's good to know at least one person on the planet gives a shit whether I'm dead or not."

"Okay, now who's being the drama queen?"

"What?"

"You have to know that there are at least two people who care that you stay alive."

"You mean my mom?"

"I'm sure she does, but she wasn't the one I was talking about."

"Well, then who?"

"Me, you moron."

"Why Cuddy, I never knew you could be so romantic, soft or feminine."

"It's why I wear those long, spike heels and those tight, body armor-like power suits. Just to look romantic and soft."

"Well you sure look hot."

"I'm beginning to wonder if there is any point to this conversation, other than to allow you an extended leer."

"Do you know how any muscles are involved in the average leer?"

"Well, as long as you are getting some exercise, then it's okay."

There was a fairly lengthy pause.

"Want to watch some TV?"

"It's better than this awkward silence, I guess. But, I wish we could talk. We used to be able to talk . . . "

"Not really. I'd make comments about your wardrobe and you'd roll your eyes and come back with a snappy retort. Or I'd ask for permission to do some bizarre procedure and you'd say 'no' until I wore you down. Or I'd tell you some truth about yourself that you didn't want to face and you'd yell at me and throw me out of your office. Or, I'd do something insane to injure myself and you'd be there to help me . . . "

House looked away. Cuddy took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

"You mean like the time I was in your hospital room after the DBS?"

"Um, yeah . . . "

"I wish I could have helped you more when I finally recognized you needed it last year. I don't know why I didn't. It just scared me and hurt me so much to think of you suffering like that . . . "

"Is that why you hooked up with Lucas? Or was it his insane sex skills?"

"Sex skills?"

"Yeah. When we went on that stakeout, he told me all he had to do was touch you and you'd come. That's why we made the bet. He said that he made you so hot that not only would you risk being late to work to do it with him, that you'd ignore an emergency page from me because he'd make you come that fast and that hard. I hope the mind-blowing orgasm was worth the two hundred bucks it cost me."

"That was the bet? That he could get me to do it, ignore a page _and_ that I would have an orgasm?"

"Yep."

"He lied to you."

"What do you mean? When you were about to resign, getting ready to leave the hospital and we were sitting in your car, you told me I should pay up."

"That's because I thought the bet was him getting me to have sex with him and ignore the page. I didn't know about the orgasm."

"You mean you didn't have one?"

"Are you kidding? We started at 7:45 and he was done by 7:47. I barely had the chance to get my skirt up and my panties down. I mean, I don't need a half-hour of foreplay like a lot of women, but even I need more than two minutes."

"So, Lucas The Sex God is really a premature ejaculator."

"Two minutes? Yeah, I'd say that's the textbook definition."

"Did that happen a lot? What about the other times you had sex?"

"It feels really weird talking to you about this."

"Oh, stop being a prude and tell me. I'm just curious."

"And I know how you get when you want to know something. Okay, well, two minutes was unusual for him, but he never really held on for more than fifteen minutes."

"That's kind of quick, isn't it? Did you get off with that?"

"After I learned that was how he was, I learned to do it faster, so I was okay a lot of the time."

"Well, even if you weren't, he always could have gone muff-diving to ease your tension."

"He wasn't a big fan of that. He was pretty good with his hands, when he wanted to be. But, after he'd come, he usually was so wiped out, he'd fall asleep."

"This is kind of funny."

"What? You find my sexual frustration amusing?"

"No. It's funny that here I was thinking you held on to this guy because you couldn't give up the ecstatic sex from a young, hot stud, and it turns out an old, crippled drug addict like me can perform better with a fifty-dollar hooker."

"Thanks for the visual on that, but, yeah, it's certainly ironic. What can I say? He was a good liar."

"Are you kidding? I've seen some great liars over the years. I even consider myself one, but he was The Michelangelo Of Falsehood."

"Lucky me."

"Hey, between him and me, you sure know how to pick 'em, Cuddy."

"Thanks."

"Well, on that note, I probably should be going. Mom's going to be waiting up for me."

"Why do you have to go?"

"You want me to stay? Did all this talk about sex get you in the mood, Cuddy?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. It's been over two months since Lucas left, and, as you now know, it wasn't like it was earth-shattering even when I was getting it more regularly. What do you say?"

"What about our talk earlier? I thought we weren't going to do it yet. Are you sure we're not rushing things?"

"As you pointed out, we've known each other for twenty-five years and worked together for ten. I hardly think that's rushing things."

"Okay. Just don't expect me to be a super-stud. I'm still old and crippled."

"Hey, if you can make it more than fifteen minutes, you're golden. And even if you don't, you can always get me with your tongue."

"I do like a snack."

"I bet your fifty-dollar hooker liked it, too."

"Never did it with a hooker."

"If you like it, why not?"

"Last time I checked, they don't make tongue condoms. Didn't want to pick up a nasty case of herpes."

"Okay. TMI."

"Speaking of condoms, I have some in my backpack."

"I've been on the pill since the fertility treatments to keep my cycle regular. And

I got checked after Lucas left just to be sure he didn't give me any more nasty surprises. And as I just told you, I haven't been with anyone since. I'm clean, so, unless you need one . . . "

"I had to get checked when I got my medical license back, and I haven't been with anyone else since then."

"Wow, you haven't even been with a hooker for all those months? How did you manage?"

"Let's just say my right hand and I haven't been this friendly since ninth grade. Don't give me that 'disgusted' look. I bet you've got a big honking vibrator in the drawer of your nightstand."

"You bet? You mean you don't know? I would have thought that finding that would be your top priority during one of your many break-ins."

"I've only broken in twice. And both times I ran out of time because I lingered too long at your underwear drawer. Hey, does this mean I get to ride bareback?"

"Yes."

"And it isn't even my birthday yet!"

"Just call Wilson."

"And tell him that I'll be home late tonight?"

"Just invite him over for brunch, here, with us, at eleven-thirty tomorrow morning."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll see you in the bedroom when you're done with your call."

House pulled out his phone and told Wilson to be at brunch. Wilson, of course, had all kinds of stupid questions. House shut him down and hung up the phone. He even turned it off so they wouldn't be disturbed.

He limped down the hall and entered Cuddy's bedroom. He became very excited at the view that greeted him. Cuddy was lying on the bed, in just her underwear, which consisted a red lace push up bra and matching tiny panties. She had her arms over her head and one leg was stretched out flat while the other was bent. Her legs were parted for a very good view. House observed that Cuddy's panties were a thong with a very thin strip that began at her backside and continued around to the front. The tiny piece of fabric barely covered her slit and the rest of her was completely exposed.

Looking at Cuddy in that position, with a seductive smile on her face, made House start to get very aroused. He felt a momentary flash of sympathy for Lucas. He quickly dismissed it. Lucas was a selfish bastard. Even if he couldn't keep from shooting his wad too soon, that didn't mean he couldn't give Cuddy her due in other ways. House was determined to do that. After tonight, she'd have no doubts at all about who the better lover was.

House undressed quickly, slipping out of his button down and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Cuddy made some appreciative noises when she saw his toned chest. He toed off his sneakers and socks, and then unbuckled his belt, undid the button and zipper on his jeans and pushed them down. He decided to keep his boxers on.

"Take those off."

"Hey, you still have your underwear on."

"Knowing you, not for long. Come on, take them off."

House hesitated for a second.

"This better not be about me seeing your scar. I was your doctor and I saw your leg right after the surgery. It can't be any worse than that. And I seem to remember a few years ago your dropping your pants in my office, pointing to the scar and asking me for a shot of morphine."

"Not my finest moment."

"You were desperate. It was understandable."

"But you gave me a placebo. It was psychosomatic."

"Not entirely. Not by a long shot. Besides, as a doctor you know psychosomatic pain hurts just as much as physical pain. Anyway, quit stalling and drop trou."

"Yes, mistress."

House stepped out of his boxers and headed over to the bed.

He began by kissing her. It was soft at first, with the intensity and passion increasing as time passed. House ran his hands over Cuddy's bra, feeling her nipples underneath. He undid the clasp and pulled the bra off her. He looked down at the perfect, luscious breasts before him.

"So beautiful."

He caressed, licked and sucked on her breasts. He moved his hands down her body until he reached her panties. His finger traveled down the tiny piece of fabric until it stopped over her core. He rubbed lightly through the fabric as Cuddy responded with a small moan.

"Can I ask you something? Why bother to wear panties at all if they're so tiny?"

"_Oh_ that's _so_ _good_. I guess I'd probably skip them if I didn't despise wearing pantyhose.

"You hate pantyhose?"

"They're incredibly confining."

"On cold days, I see you wear something hose-like on your legs, what is that?"

"Stockings."

"And a garter belt?"

"Yes, ummmm . . . "

"Why don't you just go commando?"

"I'm sitting in a meeting with no underwear, and I forget to keep my legs together tightly. Oh, there's a career builder."

"Depends on the career . . . "

"I'm a little to old to be a Playboy centerfold . . . oh, right there . . . and Sharon Stone already made a movie career out of it . . . "

"Do you mind if I take these off, then?"

"I was hoping you would . . . "

Cuddy lifted her hips as House slid the panties off her hips, down her legs and off. Cuddy was lying there with her legs spread apart. God, she was so tasty-looking. House struggled not to dive in with his tongue.

He simply couldn't keep his hands away. His fingers traced her folds and she moaned softly. He slid one finger in, and then a second. They pumped inside her as his tongue invaded her mouth.

House used the index finger on his other hand to lightly touch her clit, coaxing it out from under her folds. Cuddy moaned and began pushing her pelvis against both his hands. House continued until he felt she was close to the edge. He then eased up and kept her away a little.

"I was so close, why did you stop?"

He grinned evilly as he increased the intensity and brought her to the edge once more. For the second time, he eased off.

"God, House, will you just do it?"

He was having so much fun teasing her he almost forgot his mission to make sure Cuddy knew who the better lover was. He couldn't frustrate her too much. He increased the intensity of his motions for a third time.

"Come for me, Cuddy."

Cuddy complied. It wasn't like she had any choice, what with her pent-up need and House's wickedly skillful hands.

After her orgasm was done, House began to caress her folds again. Cuddy was about to protest that she wanted to move on when his fingers plunged inside her and his other finger found her already excited clit. Again, he took her to the edge twice, before bringing her over the third time.

Cuddy was a sweaty, panting mess at this point.

"God, that was amazing."

"Don't start talking in the past tense yet. We're just getting started."

With that comment, House dipped his head down to her core and began lightly licking her lips. Cuddy almost came from that sensation alone, along with the realization that his tongue was about to do some even more stimulating things.

Sure enough, his tongue plunged inside her, then worked around her opening. Cuddy's legs were starting to shake. House caressed the inside of her thighs very lightly. The tickling sensation made the shaking even worse.

His tongue finally found her clit. It danced across the already swollen, sensitive nub very lightly at first. Cuddy almost couldn't stand the sensation and her hips started bucking. House paused and looked up at her, his face covered with her wetness. It was so hot to see him looking at her like that. She groaned as his tongue continued to pleasure her most tender spot, making circular motions around the sides. When the tip of his tongue flicked against the tip, she couldn't stop and went over the edge in a most spectacular fashion. Even after the orgasm was over, she found herself whimpering and shaking.

"You know, I don't think I got a really good taste that time. I think I need another snack."

"Please, House. I'm not sure I can take anymore."

"Too bad. You're going to get it anyway."

House held down her hips and pushed up her legs, which increased her shaking even more. He began licking her folds again.

"As good as these gorgeous pussy lips taste, they are going to feel even better wrapped around my shaft."

Cuddy moaned as House slid his tongue inside and began licking around her opening again. Her legs twitched and were starting to ache, but what a wonderful ache it was. By the time he was finished, she wasn't sure she would be able to walk.

His tongue found her clit again. Cuddy was amazed that he knew there was a spot on the left side of her clit, in between it and her folds that, when it was stimulated, just drove her crazy. His found that spot and licked ever so lightly. It was enough to take her to the edge, but not over it.

He kept this up for at least five minutes. Cuddy knew she just couldn't take anymore.

"House, please . . . please . . . _please_ . . . "

House continued the soft licking, seemingly unaffected by her entreaties. Cuddy was becoming desperate. As addled as her brain was, she knew that there was something she could say that would make him respond and relieve her sweet agony.

"House, only you can do this. I can't even do it myself. You own my body and I _need_ you to make me come. Please _allow_ me to come. _Please_ . . . "

At that moment, House's tongue flicked across the tip of her clit and her pent up urgency exploded into a paroxysm of the most intense, sweetest release she had ever felt. She was dizzy and wondered if she was going to pass out.

House must have had the same concern.

"Are you still with me, Cuddy?"

"Mrgfgh."

"Don't leave me yet. I still haven't fucked you."

Cuddy couldn't believe it, but at the sound of those words, she felt a fresh flood of moisture down below. She still wasn't capable of speaking, so she pointed with a wavering finger. House's lips quirked into an evil grin.

"That's my naughty, horny girl."

After touching and tasting Cuddy for all this time and seeing her come so hard, House was at full attention. He pulled himself up on the bed as he kept her legs up in the air. He slid his hard cock slowly along her channel. Cuddy moaned in appreciation.

Even though House was sure Cuddy was ready for him, he still didn't want to rush things. He eased into her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him.

"Oh, God, I'm so full. It feels so good. Deeper and harder."

"Never let it be said I didn't oblige you, Cuddy."

House began thrusting slowly. He wanted to make sure he was hitting her g-spot. He got his confirmation shortly.

"Yes, that's it. _That's_ _i_t. Oh God, right there. _Right there._ Don't stop. _Don't ever stop._"

Despite the forcefulness of Cuddy's words, she was whimpering uncontrollably. She was begging as much as she had when House had her at the edge when he was eating her out. He continued to pick up the pace. He was amazed at his own self-control. He never could have waited this long when he was younger. Maybe there was at least one positive thing associated with being an old bastard.

House looked in Cuddy's eyes and she had gone somewhere else. They were lidded heavily and had the most intense look of pleasure he had ever seen. As he continued to thrust, her eyes were literally rolling to the back of her heading as she let out a deep, primal moan. Her muscles tightened all around him as she released with a fury.

House didn't know how he did it, but he kept himself from coming, even though he was ready to explode. He pushed her legs up higher and spread them even farther apart. Her muscles were like spaghetti so Cuddy couldn't have stopped him even if she had the mental awareness to do so. House was able to thrust even deeper.

Cuddy was past words. She was almost past sounds, other than the guttural noises made by an animal. House was just waiting for her release so he could let go himself. He was barely hanging on and he hoped it wouldn't be much longer.

After a few more thrusts, Cuddy's body was seized by a deep orgasm. Her entire body spasmed and she squeezed House so tightly he couldn't hold back any longer. His whole body stiffened and he emptied himself deep inside her.

He stayed inside her as he caught his breath. He looked at Cuddy and she was still no where near recovering. This gave him another very naughty idea.

He pulled out and lay beside her. He waited until she was almost recovered. She had her eyes closed. Her breathing was pretty regular and she had a crooked, blissful smile on her face. She looked so beautiful, he almost hesitated to do it, but he wanted to make sure she knew, once and for all, how much better he was.

"You know, even if Lucas came too fast to satisfy you, and he didn't like using his tongue, he still could have done this afterward."

House's hands quickly slid down Cuddy's body, gently pushing her legs even farther apart. He dipped his finger in her dripping wet pussy and found her still hugely swollen clit one last time. He knew that she was still so sensitive that almost any pressure could hurt her, so he used the lightest of touches as his finger moved across the tip of her clit. Her eyes popped open at the first touch, although she didn't look like she was able to say anything. In less than a minute, Cuddy's entire body seized with such force it actually shook the bed. Her legs pulled up and she was bucking into the bed.

He stopped and she was shaking and panting. Her eyes were closed, so he couldn't tell if she liked the last thing he had done. After she calmed down, and her body relaxed, and the smile returned to her face, even bigger than it had been before.

He pulled Cuddy into his arms and he waited for them to go to sleep. He was surprised when she whispered to him.

"That was . . . the best fuck . . . of my life. It was . . . the best fuck . . . of any woman's life . . . ever . . . thank you . . . for reminding me . . . what sex . . . can feel like . . . when someone really tries . . . to make you happy."

Cuddy smiled again as she rested against House's chest and finally fell asleep. House realized it was the best fuck of his life, too. Was this what happy really felt like? He hoped so.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.**

On early Sunday morning, House awoke to someone massaging his shoulders. He was working his way up to consciousness and wasn't thinking clearly quite yet. His foggy brain made an association and it promptly came out of his mouth unfiltered.

"That feels really great, Miranda."

Cuddy froze. A flash of jealously, really no more than a second, went through her until she remembered Miranda was House's massage therapist. His lesbian massage therapist.

She relaxed for a second until she had another thought. Her relationship with Wilson had improved since she apologized. However, the fact that Cuddy had attempted to involve Wilson when she was trying to buy the condo was still a huge sore point with him. So, they had decided that it would be better, for at least the foreseeable future, for them not to talk to each other about House. Since Cuddy and House had never discussed Miranda, and Wilson wouldn't have mentioned her to Cuddy, there was no way to explain how Cuddy knew who Miranda was.

So, there was a problem. Cuddy didn't know what to do. If she didn't act jealous, or at least a little surprised, House would become suspicious. It wouldn't take him long to figure out that Cuddy knew about Miranda and that Cuddy also knew why she didn't need to be worried about her. His mind would trip to hospital security removing the microphones from his office, which also happened to be the day before Cuddy told House and Wilson that she and Lucas were no longer together.

House was good at solving puzzles. Great, in fact. He had probably already pondered the connection between the events he knew about. If she didn't have a reaction to what he just said, House could very easily put everything together. So, Cuddy had two choices. She could pretend not to know who Miranda was and be bitchy and jealous about it. Or she could come clean about listening in on him that week.

She quickly pondered her options. Was she a good enough actress to pretend she was mad about Miranda? Was she good enough to fool House? And, in order for it to be convincing, how angry would she have to be? She and House had barely started to be together and they still had a shitload of stuff to work through. If she did become convincingly outraged, there was a serious risk that House would just give up and walk out, not wanting to deal with one more thing.

Besides, Cuddy was just plain tired of the hostility. Because of the mistakes they had both made and the problems they both had, they hadn't even been friends for over a year. She just didn't want to go back there, especially for something she wasn't actually upset about. She loved playing games with House, but it was time to stop playing the hurtful, relationship-destroying ones if they were ever going to have a chance. She decided to tell him. She would be forced to overcome her own cowardice, but this was worth it.

"Cuddy, you stopped massaging me and you went away somewhere."

"I know."

"Was it because I called you 'Miranda'?"

"In a way, yes."

"Listen, I can explain . . . wait, what do you mean 'in a way'?"

"You don't need to explain. I need to tell you something that's not easy for me. I'm not upset because I know that Miranda is your massage therapist and I also know that she plays for the other team."

Cuddy could see the wheels turning in House's head. He would probably try to deflect while he was figuring things out.

"How do you know what team she plays for? O my God, did you seduce her, and have her break up with her girlfriend so she could be with you? Are my fantasies of watching two women do it live without having to pay for it about to come true?"

"I would have thought you'd prefer my seducing a bi-sexual so you could have a threesome."

"My birthday _is_ coming up soon . . . but that's not what this is about. As far as I know, the only other person at the hospital besides her girlfriend that knows Miranda is a lesbian is Wilson, and you girls haven't been gossiping with each other for a while now. So, how did you find out?"

"Do you remember the day I came over to the condo and told you and Wilson that Lucas and I broke up?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't remember if I told you when we broke up, but it was that Friday."

"Uh-huh."

"Do you remember that Friday was also the day Security pulled that listening equipment from you office?"

"Yes."

"When I took you out to lunch to apologize, I told you what Lucas's reason was for breaking up with me. Do you remember what I said?"

"You said he told you he was fed up with the fact that the relationship between the two of you always seemed to be about me and that you still had feelings for me."

"Why do you think he came to that conclusion?"

"Knowing he bugged my office, I might guess it was because he was listening to us talking, but we hadn't talked about anything but work for a long time."

"It wasn't him listening in on your conversations. At least it wasn't _just_ him."

"Cuddy?"

"That week, I found a device with earbuds in my office. I didn't know what it was or that it belonged to Lucas. Initially, I started listening because I thought I could figure out who the owned the device. Well, that was the week the massage therapist came every day to give you an hour-long massage. You talked about a lot of interesting stuff . . . "

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah."

"You heard the full hour, every day that week?"

"Lucas didn't leave the device in my office until Tuesday and I was in too many meetings on Thursday to have the time to listen."

"Gee, now that I remember some of the stuff I talked about, I can't figure out why that made Lucas break up with you. There were all kinds of embarrassing things for the two of you to humiliate me with."

"I'm so sorry you were humiliated. I never wanted that."

"Then why did you do all that stuff?"

"I need you to understand that my motivation for doing things was different than Lucas's was. I was trying to protect the relationship. That's why I kept it a secret because, based on your past behavior, I thought you wouldn't be happy for me, even if you didn't want me yourself. I thought there was a good chance that if I just told you to stay away on Thanksgiving you would ignore me and crash the dinner. I invited you and then sent you on that wild goose chase to keep you from ruining my first real holiday with Lucas and my family. I wanted Bonnie to help me buy the loft so I could get Wilson involved, knowing he would tell you and you would know how serious Lucas and I were. Lucas was happy to join in, because he knew these things would hurt you, and as you know, he was very good at coming up with really nasty stuff on his own."

"Okay, but I still need you to explain how the two of you listening to my secrets made you break up."

"First of all, I didn't know about the stuff he did to you and Wilson after you moved into the loft, which I learned about when I was listening. It scared me a little. No, actually, a lot. I was starting to question whether I even wanted to be with someone who could do those kinds of things and not feel any remorse. Second, some of the things you said were really painful. Like 'we _used to be_ friends.' I knew things were strained between us, but I never wanted that. When I thought back on what Lucas and I had done to you . . . how we treated you . . . it was certainly obvious why you felt that way. I felt so guilty. I cried over it, right there in my glass-walled office."

"Did anyone notice?"

"No one on my staff. Then, you said you loved me . . . it's not like I didn't know you had feelings for me . . . but to hear you finally utter those words and mean them . . . and to not be there with you when you did . . . I didn't actually cry about that, but I'm sure my face showed all my confusion and longing."

"Since you didn't mention it, I'm guessing no one on the staff saw that, either. Then why all the concern about displaying how you felt?"

"Lucas set me up. He put the device in my office, knowing I wouldn't be able to resist listening. He sat out in waiting area of the clinic, disguised as a homeless man, so, of course, no one really noticed him."

"So, he listened to what I said and he watched your reaction."

"Just the fact that I was willing to listen to your personal conversations for three hours was enough to convince him I was still attached to you. When he saw how I reacted to what you said . . . he knew I cared about you . . . he probably assumed I loved you, too. That's why he left."

"Do you?"

Cuddy hesitated. She knew what House was asking.

"You heard me say how I feel. You know I meant it. It hasn't changed since then."

Damn. Her plan had been to take this slowly. She wanted to gradually build the relationship. Even the mind-blowing sex last night could be rationalized as giving in to physical attraction and pent-up need. If she admitted her real feelings, especially after he had re-confirmed his, there was no going back.

But did she want to go back? Hadn't she fallen in love with him at Michigan? Hadn't it almost killed her when he left? She certainly hadn't gotten over him when he came back into her life with Stacey by his side. If she was honest with herself, she was secretly thrilled when Stacey left . . . both times. She'd tried to push the issue last year, but had run into House being crazy.

She had taken up with Lucas when she had no idea when House would return. _If_ he would return. And if she hadn't been so stupidly stubborn, she would have admitted early on that it wouldn't work with Lucas. Her subconscious knew it. That was why she really wasn't upset when Wilson bought the condo. Deep down, she knew she didn't belong with Lucas. She belonged with House. She needed to tell him.

She came out of her reverie to find House completely dressed except for his sneakers.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed."

"I can see that. Why?"

"Well, I may be able to ride back to the loft in the nude without getting arrested, but I don't think I'd like to risk it."

"Why are you going to the loft?"

"I asked you to tell me how you felt, and you went away somewhere. You either don't know how you feel, and you need me to go away so you can think about it or you know that you don't love me, and I need to get away . . . so I don't make an idiot of myself declaring my love for someone who doesn't love me. Again."

Cuddy was stunned that he would read all of that into her brief silence. He had his shoes on and was standing up next to the bed. She had to stop him. She put her hand on his arm to hold him back.

"You _are_ about to make an idiot of yourself. Or at least you're going to be angry with yourself for all that pointless activity."

"What?"

"You're going to feel like you wasted a lot of time getting dressed when I tell you I love you and forcibly remove your clothes and fuck you until you pass out."

"You love me?"

"Since Michigan. Never stopped."

Cuddy stood on the bed and turned him towards her. She began to kiss his cheeks, his chin, his eyelids, his nose, his forehead. He had already toed off his shoes and slipped off his button down. Cuddy stopped kissing his face long enough for him to pull off his t-shirt. She crashed her lips on to his and licked and sucked his bottom lip until he opened his mouth and allowed her access. Her tongue dove in, caressing the inside of his mouth and moving lovingly around his tongue.

As she was kissing him, her hands were still at work as she unbuckled his belt, undid the button of his jeans and unzipped him. She pushed off both his pants and boxers and he stepped out of them. He sat back down on the bed, then lay down next to her, and she pulled him back under the covers.

They finally came up for air.

"I love you, Greg. Always have. Always will."

"I love you, too, Lisa."

They kissed for a few more minutes. Cuddy pushed House on to his back.

"It's my turn for a snack."

Cuddy bent her head down and took his partially erect penis in her hands. She stroked it briefly before she took his head in her mouth. She licked slowly around the rim. She figured it wouldn't be too difficult to get House to come quickly, but she remembered how much care and effort he had taken with her the previous night and she wanted to at least try to lavish the same attention on him.

She removed his cock from her mouth and began blowing on it. House hissed as the cool air hit his wet cock. Cuddy was also caressing his balls. She leaned down and took them into her mouth and began licking them with the lightest of touches, her tongue dancing ever so softly across the surface of each.

His groaned his approval and became more erect. She stopped licking his balls and started tickling them with her fingers as her mouth and tongue moved its way up the underside of his penis, starting at the base and continuing upward. She flattened her tongue and licked in circular motions. When she reached the head she stopped and went back to the base, using the same motion on both sides of his penis and then the top. When she reached the head for the last time, she sucked on it and then pulled back the foreskin. She ran she finger lightly over the exposed tip, eliciting a moan from House. He moaned even louder when she licked the same spot. Her hand released the foreskin, while she kept her tongue underneath, between the foreskin and his head, and continued to lick.

She licked him softly this way for a good five minutes, holding him on the edge, just as he had done with her. House's eyes were rolling back in the sockets and he was panting.

"Cuddy, _please_."

Cuddy gently removed her tongue and took his throbbing penis into her mouth, slowly traveling down the full length. It only took three or four more times and he ejaculated, hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed and moved back up the bed.

House had barely recovered when she started to kiss him again. This time her kisses were forceful and passionate. She bit his lower lip to get him to open his mouth, and she pushed in with her tongue, exploring the inside of his mouth, his teeth and his tongue with her own.

Her hands traveled down his back, reaching his ass. She caressed it softly at first. House hissed as one of her fingers traveled delicately just inside his crack. She then squeezed his cheeks hard. House was completely taken by surprise and moaned into her mouth.

She pushed House on to his back and straddled him. She leaned over and kissed him again.

"Do you have any idea what I'm about to do to you now? I'm going to make you come again. This time inside me. My cunt wants your cock _so _badly."

Cuddy slid her soaking wet channel along the back of House's cock. She didn't know if he would be up for more action so soon, so she was pleased to feel him stiffening again. She kept sliding against him, which made him become more and more erect. When she thought he was ready, she guided his cock inside her.

She moved slowly up and down, attempting to establish a comfortable rhythm. She built the pace slowly, feeling him gradually become more stiff inside her. He began thrusting up into her, following her lead. She adored the noises he was making as they moved together. She closed her eyes and listened to his sweet grunts and moans as the pressure built inside, her orgasm fast approaching.

Her orgasm arrived just before his, radiating out from her core all the way down to the tips of her toes and up through her torso to the very top of her head. She shook so violently that she almost fell off his lap, calling his name in a deep guttural voice.

Once Cuddy's orgasm started and her walls spasmed on his cock, House could no longer hold back. His body convulsed as the hot sperm traveled from his balls up through his dick, pumping with tremendous force deep into Cuddy's body. He called out her name as every nerve ending in his body caught on fire with pleasure.

House found himself lying on his back, with Cuddy snuggling against him. He waited for a few minutes until he heard her breathing even out, letting him know she was asleep. Even then, she was making what could only be described as satisfied sounds, obviously still feeling the effects of the endorphins that coursed through her body, even in sleep.

House was tired and wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. He just had the best sex of at least the last fifteen years, possibly of his whole life, and he needed to figure out why. The blow job had been great and House had loved every second of it, but that wasn't what made it amazing. It was the sex itself.

Unlike a lot of men, House didn't need to be on top to feel masculine. Good thing, because since the infarction, if his leg was hurting him, it was easier to let the woman straddle him and do the work, which had happened on several occasions with the hookers he'd hired. So, Cuddy riding him was nothing novel. What was it then?

As House drifted slowly to sleep, he realized it wasn't really about him, it was about Cuddy. While she had closed her eyes when they were having sex, he had kept his open, watching her. He'd seen her proud of her accomplishments at work, annoyed at his antics, both at work and socially, expectant as she started fertility treatments and full of sadness when she miscarried. He'd seen her utter devastation when she lost Joy, her happiness when she found Rachel. He'd seen fear on her face many times, because he had put it there --- when he was shot, when he nearly landed himself in prison, when he had the heart attack from the physostigmine, when he woke up from the DBS, when the crazed clinic patient had taken him hostage, and when he realized he was delusional in her office before Wilson took him to Mayfield.

But he had never seen her the way she looked that morning. As she rode him to their mutual climax, her face was one of unbridled, unadulterated elation. Her body was open and giving. At that moment, she had nothing on her mind or in her heart but offering and receiving pleasure and . . . love. He had seen Cuddy at her best and at her worst, but he had never seen her that beautiful. In his entire life, he had never seen _anyone_ that beautiful.

House fell asleep wanting her to keep looking that way. As close to impossible as it was going to be, he wanted to be the one who put that look on her face as often as he could for the rest of their lives.


End file.
